


Be Good to Me (I Whisper)

by wesawbears



Series: Care and Keeping of Geralt [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gentle Sex, M/M, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26310235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesawbears/pseuds/wesawbears
Summary: Jaskier continues his quest to make Geralt see that sex can be about what Geralt wants and about making him feel good. More unrestrained Geralt being soft and Jaskier being softer. This time, focusing on Geralt's hearing and as such, lots of praise.Can be read as a standalone.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Care and Keeping of Geralt [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787761
Comments: 19
Kudos: 393





	Be Good to Me (I Whisper)

After the last time, Geralt hates to admit it, but he feels different. Lighter, in a way. He remembers waking up the next morning, Jaskier smiling and brushing his hair away from his face.

“You look well rested, darling.”

“Hmm,” he had answered, but Jaskier only laughed, a little too loud, but bright enough that Geralt couldn’t help smiling.

Now, he waits in the main room of the tavern while Jaskier finishes his set. It had started with a small group, but as the night drew on, the crowd had become louder, drunker, and bawdier. WIth it, Geralt feels his temples begin to throb. He’s heard Jaskier perform a thousand times- surely the other man would understand if he retired for the night.

He catches Jaskier’s eye and inclines his head towards the stairs, indicating his intent. Jaskier nods, somehow without breaking his concentration. It’s barely there, but Geralt notices a glint in his eye, and decides to take a little extra time in the bath before Jaskier joins him for the evening.

By the time the crowd sees fit to free Jaskier from their clutches, Geralt is sitting on the inn bed, going through his pack for herbs to pass the time. He feels relaxed, unwound, which is strange, but not unwelcome. 

Jaskier, on the other hand, looks lively, flushed from his performance and full of excess energy, the way Geralt feels after a hunt sometimes. It’s counterintuitive- one would think that after expending so much energy they would be bone tired, but when the blood is up, it’s hard to come down from it. He knows Jaskier is the same way after the excitement of a performance.

Jaskier bounds over, laying his lute down carefully next to Geralt’s swords. Geralt is careful to lay his pack aside before Jaskier reaches the bed.

Kneeling over him, Jaskier presses forward to capture Geralt’s lips in a deep kiss. Geralt sighs, letting his world narrow to just that point of contact between them. It’s easier when he can find a focal point like that.

After a moment, Jaskier breaks the kiss. “You’re tired,” he pouts.

“Not too tired for this,” Geralt assures, settling his hands on Jaskier’s sides.

“Thank you for staying as long as you did. I know the crowds can be a lot for you.”

“It’s fine.”

Jaskier purses his lips. He knows he really ought to stop saying that in front of the bard by now. It just slips out. Jaskier recovers quickly though, bracing his thighs on either side of Geralt’s. “Let’s try something, shall we? If you’re not too tired.”

Geralt nods. Whatever Jaskier wants to try, he knows he’ll be safe in his hands. Jaskier smiles and leans forward again, kissing Geralt soundly, arms wound around his shoulders.

After a few minutes of relaxed kissing, Jaskier moves his lips to ghost over the shell of Geralt’s ear. “You look lovely, you know. Like something out of a romance novel.”

Geralt huffs at that. “A bodice ripper about a witcher and a bard?”

Jaskier laughs lightly. “There are stranger things. I would buy it.”

Geralt starts to respond, but Jaskier’s lips on his neck make the words die in his throat. A light moan he’s unable to restrain.

Jaskier tuts. “I want to hear you, love.”

“Jaskier…”

The other man pulls back and looks at him, brow raised. “I want to hear all those gorgeous sounds you love to hold back. All for me. Is that alright?”

If it weren’t for the way his medallion lay still against his chest, Geralt would be convinced Jaskier was something not entirely human. His voice was hypnotic, and he feels himself floating a bit. “Hrrm.”

Jaskier chuckles and presses a kiss to his collarbone. “So pretty.”

“Not-”

“Hush. You are.” A kiss is pressed to the center of his chest.

“Jaskier…”

“Keep saying my name, precious. I love the way it sounds.”

He bites his lip. His voice was rough, unpleasant- he tried to keep his speech to a minimum, knowing how it tended to jar people. He’d had more than one whore push him away in disgust after, complaining of how it felt like they’d been taken by an animal. It was usually said after he’d paid, when they thought he was out of earshot, but he heard every word.

He’s jolted out of his thoughts by a flick of tongue over his nipple. He’s unable to stop the keen that follows.

“Stay here with me, darling. Right here.” Another kiss is pressed to his belly. He runs his hand through Jaskier’s hair, soft from the oils he keeps on hand.

The other man groans. “Your hands, my love, they’re sinful.”

Geralt grunts. “Get on with it.”

“Bossy,” Jaskier notes, pressing a love bite to his hip bone just to hear him gasp.

Jaskier pulls the sheet down and Geralt sighs happily, only for Jaskier to bypass the place he needs him most, in favor of running his hands over his thighs.

“I would be honored to be crushed between these someday.”

Geralt tugs lightly on his hair. Jaskier only chuckles. “Patience, my wolf.”

He litters kisses and bites across the insides of Geralt’s thighs. He’s struck by how often he had done the same thing to women in brothels, hoping to show them he could be kind and attentive, that he wasn’t solely focused on his pleasure. It’s alarming to be on the receiving end. To be...wooed.

When Jaskier finally takes him in his mouth, the low groan he lets out is too loud, likely to be noticed in the adjacent room. Jaskier hums around him. “Fuck.”

The only time Jaskier is quiet is when his mouth is otherwise occupied, but he still manages to make his presence known.

“Julek...please…”

The pet name is what finally manages to give Geralt some semblance of the upper hand. Jaskier pulls away. “Yes, sweetness?”

Geralt nudges his leg further around Jaskier, guiding him where he wants. “Please,” he insists again.

“So polite,” Jaskier murmurs, pressing a final kiss to his thigh. The rest of their tryst is filled with Jaskier’s low murmurs of how good Geralt is, how perfect he feels, how sweet his cries of pleasure are. Geralt’s fairly sure his noises have never been called sweet, but Jaskier is as much an anomaly in this as in anything.

After, Jaskier lays on his chest, twirling a lock of hair around his finger, Geralt rubbing his back. “What was that about?”

Jaskier hums. “Downstairs. The loud noise was bothering you. I wanted to see…”

“Wanted to see…”

“I wanted to see what soft noises could do to you. And I wanted to see how you sounded. You looked relaxed.”

“Another experiment?”

Jaskier raises up to look at him. “You’re not an experiment. I only meant that I wanted to see you relaxed. It seems to have done the trick.”

Geralt nods. “I am. Relaxed. As I can get, I suppose.”

Jaskier lays down again. “Good. It’s nice to see my efforts rewarded.”

Geralt’s brow furrows. “Rewarded?”

Jaskier kisses his chest again. “You, sweetness. Seeing you comfortable is my reward. Now sleep.”

Geralt hums and continues tracing shapes into Jaskier’s back. The bard’s methods were unusual, but with every day, he feels whatever Jaskier seems to be doing to him working.

He sleeps through the night once again.


End file.
